


Misuse of Plushies

by JUBE514



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Improvised Sex Toys, Kinda, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Plushies, Sex Toys, Touching, Voodoo doll, but - Freeform, hot?, misuse of plushies, werid metaverse shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 22:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17927294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JUBE514/pseuds/JUBE514
Summary: “We were trying to do some exposure therapy for crowds together.” Haru laughs as she sets down her own bag near Yusuke’s feet. “And Futaba insisted we get them.”The them in question turn out to be, frankly amazing, ginormous, plushies.They look almost the same. Some of the colors are wrong, parts of the outfits don’t make sense, and the masks need touching up, but these plushies are undeniably a set of Phantom Thieves.The things get handed out to each member one by one, the plushies are maybe the size of Akira’s forearm, and amazingly rendered for being soft fabric, the proportions just about right and the clothes clearly stitched with care.--The Phantom Thieves find plushies of themselves, fix them up to be perfect in the metaverse, and that has some,,, intresting side effects.





	Misuse of Plushies

It’s really Futaba that starts this whole mess. 

 

She walks into LeBlanc ten minutes after the Phantom Thieves meeting was going to start with bags stuffed to the brim and dragging along Ann and Haru. 

 

“Went to the outdoor market today with the girls. We found some top quality stuff.” 

 

Futaba’s already putting her bags down, pulling out huge things wrapped up in shitty half assed bags. 

 

“We were trying to do some exposure therapy for crowds together.” Haru laughs as she sets down her own bag near Yusuke’s feet. “And Futaba insisted we get them.”

 

The  _ them _ in question turn out to be, frankly amazing,  _ ginormous _ , plushies. 

 

They look  _ almost _ the same. Some of the colors are wrong, parts of the outfits don’t make sense, and the masks need touching up, but these plushies are undeniably a set of Phantom Thieves. 

 

The things get handed out to each member one by one, the plushies are maybe the size of Akira’s forearm, and amazingly rendered for being soft fabric, the proportions just about right and the clothes clearly stitched with care. 

 

Akira’s own plush has a white blouse under his trench coat instead of his usual leather ensemble, and his domino mask is completely white, no black accents. 

 

“They were on sale!” Futaba’s trying to defend herself on the purchase, but Ryuji’s laughing way too hard to hear her. 

 

Haru doesn’t seem to mind that she just dropped a whole shitload of money on cute gimmickry knock off toys, just is content to keep her little lookalike on her lap and play with the feather. 

 

“Why don't I have one?” Akechi’s asking, pointedly looking at Ann’s own doll as she coos over its ponytail. 

 

“Because you just joined? Mishima hasn’t gone on huge forum rants about you yet. Nobody knows your on the team.” Makoto answers his question as she plucks her own small plush from the table where they were dumped and squeezes it tight against her. 

 

Even Morgana’s curled up on his own stuffed doll, purring a little too loudly as he smirks at them all from his throne. 

 

Yusuke is just sitting quietly, inspecting the seams of his own miniature, and frowning. 

 

—

 

The momentos run is mostly easy levels, higher up floors and team building exercises galore today. Akechi was still too new on the team for Akira to risk any actual  _ difficult _ battles, so they drove around for fun and took out the stress of school on the shadows that infested the place. 

 

Yusuke was awfully quiet, in the back of the bus, not even once complaining of motion sickness. Him, Ryuji, and Haru all had collected up in the back seat and had been silently working on  _ something. _

 

Akira pays them no mind, he’s focused on diving and scouting out shadows. 

 

If his curiosity is piqued when he glances into the rearview mirror and sees Ryuji, sans red handkerchief, focused on something intently on his lap then all Akira can really do is make a mental note to ask about it later. 

 

It’s at a safe room when Akira finally asks, “What are you three doing while I’m driving? Back in the back?” 

 

Ryuji tenses up, frozen, Haru just smiles like the heiress she is. It’s Yusuke who produces some thick string from his pockets, pricking his finger on the sharp sewing needle but not seeming to care as Yusuke shows off the thick yellow thread. “We’re fixing those abominations.” Yusuke huffs, seemingly proud of himself. 

 

“Abominations?”    
  
Yusuke nods, as if whatever he’s talking about is incredibly obvious, Akira, come on now keep up. Haru’s still smiling, Akira gets the strong feeling she is making fun of him, but in a  _ polite _ way. Ryuji’s face is just bright red under his skull mask, trying not to meet Akira’s eyes. 

 

Ann’s loud laughter pulls Akira’s attention away from the three in front of him to see Makoto about to actually strangle Akechi over something or other. 

 

By the time he’s gotten everything in  _ that _ situation sorted out, Ryuji and Haru have gotten Yusuke up to speed and none of them are saying  _ anything _ . They’ve clearly gotten up to something between the three of them, and they continue to work diligently in the backseat, the occasional mumbling of soft spoken words between the three of them. 

 

The mementos run ended up being about five hours long, the sky dark by the time the group tumbles out of the metaverse, everyone’s tired, exhausted, leaning on one another and trying to keep their eyes open. The only ones who have any energy are Yusuke, who seems to runs on about four hours of sleep every two days anyway, Futaba, who didn’t fight and had chugged four energy drinks earlier, and Haru, who was trained out of petty commoner things like ‘being tired’ during her youth. 

 

The group is picking up their things at LeBlanc when Yusuke announces that he’s ‘fixed’ the ‘horrible slights against aesthetics’. 

 

Yusuke places the plushies from earlier on the pull out table, and just  _ damn _ . 

 

The plushies are  _ perfect _ . 

 

Akira’s almost scared of how much eye for detail Yusuke has, because these things look professional grade. Akira’s joker went from a vague resemblance to ‘could be used as evidence in a court of law’. The material was perfect, the cut of the shirt was the exact same as the metaverse outfit Akira trapises around in. In fact, the material was  _ too perfect _ . It was the exact same soft kind of leather that Akira knows by heart, it even has the same kind of give-

 

“Yusuke did you use my metaverse outfit for this?” Akira asks, confused to how Yusuke got the material of his  _ shirt  _ without him noticing. 

 

“I did that.” Haru smiles, holding her own perfect replica of Noir. “When everyone gets injured and the healers patch them up, it's nothing to get a few pieces of torn fabric before we make sure everyone's back on their feet again!” 

 

Akira makes another mental note that Haru is actually terrifying, it's good thing to know. 

 

“It was Ryuji who did most of the sewing, however, as he was the quickest with the needle, the most efficient!” Yusuke gestured Ryuji, making Ryuji look up from where he’s messing with his own little plushies arms. “Optimized needlework! The way he was able to handle the makeshift needle with such a finesse! A grace-!” 

 

Akira tunes out Yusuke’s art rant, and keeps an eye on Ryuji’s face as it turns redder and redder as Yusuke goes on and on about Ryuji’s needlework. 

 

Now that Akira knows what he’s looking for, he can see the seams, the way the material had neat looping stitches that ran in straight lines. It  _ was _ clean, and clearly Ryuji had knowledge of how to patch things up. 

 

Akira hugs his plushie to his chest. 

 

It feels even more special, now that he knows it was Ryuji who helped make it the way that it was.

 

\--

 

Ryuji ends up spending the night. 

 

He often does now, because of the late trips to the metaverse and his tendency to want to hang around Akira more and more often. The two of them are playing some old racing game, Ryuji’s winning by a slim margin, the two of them have their plushies tucked into their laps. 

 

Akira sighs as Ryuji wins again, Ryuji giving a loud ‘ _ whoop! _ ’ of happiness. “I think you’re cheating.” Akira accuses, pouting. 

 

“How- how am I  _ cheating? _ !” Ryuji looks aghast, mimicking Akira’s pout. 

 

Akira thinks about it for a moment, his mind reaching out and grasping at the straws available to him. Akira, almost without thinking, blurts out “Your plushie.” 

 

A beat of silence. 

 

“My  _ plushie _ ?” Ryuji’s holding onto his Skull plushie tightly now, pulling it close to his chest and bringing his knees up to give it that extra layer of protection. 

 

Akira’s dug his grave, it's time to lie in it.  

 

“Yes. Of course.” Akira makes his tone nonchalant, hiding the fact he’s making shit up as he goes along. “Skull’s got good luck, let me hold him.” 

 

Ryuji sputters, “You can’t get two!” 

 

Akira thinks about it, before standing up and moving to Ryuji. Ryuji just holds his plush tighter, caging it within his arms keeping it close to him. Akira is not deterred. Akira just  _ lays _ onto Ryuji, hands going into the openings and trying to wiggle his way to get at the Skull plush. Ryuji’s laughing now, loud and wild and  _ free _ . The two of them wrestle, Akira’s nimble hands trying to snag at the soft toy in Ryuji’s arms, pressed to Ryuji’s warm chest. Ryuji’s on his back, Akira braced above him trying to contain a wiggling Ryuji. 

 

The two end up wholy on top of each other, Akira’s arms trapped between Ryuji’s plushie and Ryuji’s hard chest, Ryuji’s hips pinned beneath Akira’s. The two of them are still laughing, still attempting to give a sporting wiggle every now and again. 

 

Akira finally gets his hands on the Skull plush. 

 

And  _ squeezes _ . 

 

Ryuji  _ arches _ up from underneath him, a half surprised gasp and a half yell. Akira almost gets bucked off that how hard Ryuji had  _ twisted _ . 

 

Akira’s leaning back, weight entirely in Ryuji’s lap as Ryuji looked around wildly, his arms not around the plush anymore, but on his own chest, “What the hell was that man?!” 

 

Akira blinks, confused. “What?”    
  
“You! You grabbed my tits bro!” Ryuji’s face is red, and he’s holding his chest, protecting his nipples. 

 

Akira stutters. “I did  _ not _ !” 

 

The two argue back and forth, Ryuji was, in fact, pretty fucking sure that Akira had copped a feel, Akira was pretty fucking sure that he had  _ only _ grabbed the Skull plushie. 

 

“I grabbed the plush! I swear!” Akira’s saying for the third time, and for empisas he reaches to the side, where the plush had fallen when Ryuji let go, and picked up the smiling little Skull. 

 

The leather on the Skull plush was also soft and worn, easily folding to Akira’s touch. The hair’s made of a yellow felt and the skull mask had evidence of being touched up by cute embroidery patterns. The red flare of the handkerchief a familiar touch. 

 

“I grabbed the plush! Right here!” 

 

Akira demonstrates how he managed to grab the plush, right in the middle, and squeeze the chest of the little-

 

Ryuji gasps again, shivering and twisting underneath Akira. 

 

Akira realizes a few things at once. 

 

One, Ryuji was still underneath him, and Akira was sitting on his lap, feeling  _ every  _ roll and twitch. 

 

Two, Ryuji’s hands tighten on his chest, clearly feeling sensation there. 

 

Three, the sensation that Ryuji felt was in the same place that Akira had squeezed on the doll. 

 

It takes a second. 

 

Ryuji’s looking up with wide, wide eyes. It’s clearly caught on with him to. They both look at the cute little plush, sitting so innocently in Akira’s hands.

 

\--

 

“It’s a voodoo plush.” Ryuji accuses. 

 

The two of them are sitting apart from one another. Ryuji’s taken the couch, Akira the bed. The two plushies lay on the floor, untouched. 

 

“It has metaverse qualities. I’m not saying it's a voodoo plush.” Akira sighs. 

 

The two of them have talked about this for a while, about ten minutes. 

 

“If I touch your plush, you feel it. If you touch my plush, I feel it. That kinda sounds like eff’in voodoo to me man.” Ryuji’s hands fiddle with a blanket that he’s gonna use to sleep later. 

 

“You’ve seen too many movies.” Akira accuses. “It’s because you’ve made it from our metaverse clothes, that's why we feel it.” 

 

Ryuji huffs. 

 

He stands up, and walks to the plushies. 

 

Ryuji picks up the Joker plush, feeling the soft leather of the clothes, the curling felt hair. 

 

Akira shivers. 

 

He can  _ feel _ the way Ryuji holds him, feels the warmth of Ryuji’s hands leaking into Akira’s skin. 

 

Ryuji carefully handles the plush, using a finger to trail a path, watching Akira the whole time. 

 

Akira squirms on the bed. He  _ feels _ the way Ryuji carefully moves, can trace the pattern only a half a second behind the original. It’s strange, seeing the disconnect between the touch, knowing what was coming next but not being able to do anything to make what was happening speed up, slow down. Akira tries to wiggle, to get that touch to go to wear he wants, but he had no control over what Ryuji was doing from so far away. The trailing warmth got  _ dangerously _ close to in between Akira’s legs, inching up his inner thighs and going just slow enough that Akira has  _ hope _ that maybe Ryuji will just  _ go for it. _

 

Ryuji stops, gently placing the Joker plush down. 

 

Akira catches a wine coming out from the back of his throat. 

 

“I told you.  _ Voodoo _ .” 

 

Ryuji smirks, and Akira almost  _ screams _ . 

 

“ _ Ryuji _ .” Akira grits out, chest heaving and fingers gripping the sheets so hard that they might rip. “I swear to god.” 

 

It takes a second, but Ryuji’s mind clicks and realizes what he’s done to his best friend, the initial move to prove a point turned into something much more  _ teasing _ than he had anticipated. 

 

“Oh!” Ryuji’s smile is back, that thousand gigawatt smile. He gently picks up the Joker plush, resting the plush on one hand, placing two fingers between the plushies legs. It makes Akira gasp, and when Ryuji’s hand twitches Akira can feel that twitch in glorious HD. Ryuji’s other hand is free to roam, and he rests it on the front of the plush. 

 

Akira can feel the heat, and knows that whatever is going to happen, Ryuji’s about to  _ tear him apart _ just to put him back together again. 

 

Ryuji rubs gently on the chest of the plush, and Akira’s brain knows the feeling of Ryuji flicking over-sensitive nipples, but this was something else. Akira was still wearing his PJ’s, the shirt he’s wearing shows no signs of the sensations on the skin underneath, and somehow A=kira’s brain whispers to him that he needs to remove his shirt, let Ryuji have  _ more _ access to everything. 

 

So Akira strips off the soft green cotton shirt. 

 

Ryuji whistles, low, dark. 

 

“Get  _ on _ with it, Ryuji.” 

 

Ryuji laughs, shifting his stance so that Akira’s eyes get drawn to the tightness of Ryuji’s sweatpants. Ryuji’s sweatpants, that he was borrowing from Akira tonight. “Okay, okay, I’ll get on with it-” 

 

Ryuji’s fingers twitch again, and Akira feels the  _ press _ against his dick, between his legs-    
  
“ _ Joker.”  _

 

Akira’s gone. There’s no way. He can’t. 

 

Ryuji’s inspecting the toy more now, trailing his fingers between the soft gap between the two legs. Alternating between  _ pressing _ hard enough to make Akira see white stars and trailing teasingly. 

 

“ _ Please!”  _ Akira’s twisting, squirming, panting, pleading. 

 

Ryuji shifts his fingers, spreading the legs of the plushie, and making Akira feel the strain in his own thighs. Ryuji trails his pinkie finger from hooking around the front, pressing against his hip, down between his legs. 

 

Ryuji presses, once, twice,  _ up. _

 

Akira  _ screams _ . Oh god! Yes! Pressing right on the perineum, Akira can feel not only Ryuji’s hands ghosting over him so wonderfully, but he can see how his reactions are making Ryuji react back. 

 

Wide blown eyes, huge dilated pupils. Ryuji’s so hard in his sweats he could cut diamond. Ryuji’s flushed, bright red, but his eyes never leave Akira’s body  _ once _ . 

 

Akira twists more, tugs his boxers down just a little bit, flashing Ryuji sharp hip bones and just the start of a happy trail. 

 

Ryuji licks his lips. 

 

And presses  _ harder. _

 

Akira hisses, “ _ Yes! Yes! _ ” It's right there, he’s so close. It’s embarrassing how hot this is, but damn it. Please,  _ please.  _ It’s almost just right, almost there, but not enough all at once. The pressure is sweet, it’s warm, it’s what Akira  _ loves _ . 

 

Ryuji’s on him, suddenly, pressing bodily into Akira, grabbing his face, his neck, and kissing him deeply. Ryuji’s knees are on either side of Akira’s hips, both parties franticly grinding hard on the other, desperate. Ryuji takes his thumb, and Akira only catches a  _ glance _ of the way Ryuji reaches a little bit to the side and presses down into something and-

 

Akira’s strung tight, Ryuji’s kissing him deeply, grinding hard into him, one hand cradling his head and the other pressed on the crotch of the Joker plush. 

 

Akira comes, hard. Ryuji takes himself in hand and finishes off not too terribly later, getting off on the sight of Akira, topless and dishleved and blissed out underneath him. 

 

\--

 

Akira holds the Skull plush tightly. Hugging it. Ryuji had left in the morning, kissing Akira once before he needed to run out and grab things for his mom. He had halted a moment, looking at the two plushes laid next to each other on the couch, before grabbing the Joker. 

 

Akira simply smiled, feeling Ryuji’s hug all the while he rode the train. 

**Author's Note:**

> its the discords fault tbh. i havent slept in since uh three days ago


End file.
